Chapter 178
Chapter 178
A great army.
It truly was a great army in every sense of the word. Hundreds of thousands of soldiers simultaneously turned their gazes toward Youngho.
Distrust, blind faith, contempt, favor. Each conveyed their own differing emotions toward Youngho through their eyes.
A pressure began to surge toward him—one that would not end merely as a burden. Youngho knew this feeling well.
Even before his Regression, he had received such gazes countless times. Still, compared to before his Regression, their eyes were far more alive.
‘Well, of course. These bastards haven’t experienced a real war yet.’
Youngho had fought on battlefields for nearly twenty years. Because of that, he could tell simply by looking into a person’s eyes.
Whether that person was certain of victory or already anticipating defeat.
‘Still, it’s much better than the eyes of rotten corpses.’
“Young Master, it’s about time you spoke.”
“I know.”
Urged by Muyeon, Youngho addressed the people staring up at him from below the platform.
“First, I’ll tell you the two ways the alliance can achieve victory.”
Youngho’s manner of speech, which moved directly to the main point without any embellishment, was blunt—and highly inappropriate for a speech given before a war.
He should have been boosting the soldiers’ morale, but speaking only of the main point like that would instead stiffen their bodies and heighten their tension.
Those who understood this clicked their tongues quietly, thinking that Youngho truly was still a mere brat.
Fortunately, the sound was not loud enough for Youngho to hear—but sometimes, even without hearing or seeing anything, one could tell what others were thinking.
And so Youngho smiled. A calm smile—unwavering, steady, stubborn yet gentle.
“If I kill the Heavenly Demon, we win. You probably expected that much. Then what do you think the second method is?”
He did not expect an answer. This was a speech, after all, so he merely paused briefly before answering his own question.
“While I face the Heavenly Demon, you all take the lives of the Twelve Demons and the other Demonic Practitioners. If that happens, then even if I die at the hands of the Heavenly Demon, you’ll still be able to face him.”
Youngho’s calm declaration of his own death seemed strangely out of place for someone of the Unorthodox Faction, yet he paid it no mind.
“And let me add one more despairing statement. Half of those gathered here today will either die or end up crippled.”
Before anyone could react to the absurd speech, Youngho expanded the Internal Energy gathered in his throat and continued.
“Today, we die. I die, my Master dies, the Murim Alliance Leader dies, the Nine Sects and One Gang die—and many famous figures of the Unorthodox Alliance will fall as well.”
“…….”
No one spoke.
At first they were dumbfounded. But soon they calmed—and cold anger began to consume their minds.
Youngho looked briefly into the soldiers’ eyes, now filled with vicious resolve, and spoke.
“That’s the look.”
“…….”
“Don’t waste your strength by tensing your muscles with pointless anxiety. Instead, surrender yourselves to anger and kill even one more Demonic Practitioner.”
Youngho widened his characteristically cold eyes and said,
“Fight with nothing but venom and obsession. Don’t spout useless words about fighting for the greater cause or for the people under heaven. If we lose here today, the Central Plains will belong to the Demonic Cult. Throw away the will to save anyone. Carve only one intention into your minds—the intention to kill.”
Youngho’s speech was by no means inspiring.
If anything, he himself shattered the resolve of those listening.
Do not save anyone. Throw away thoughts of survival. Hold only the will to kill.
The will to save the world began to crumble. The belief that they had stepped forward for the sake of righteousness wavered.
And when that will and belief emptied out, venom and obsession began to fill the void.
Youngho’s speech did not raise the soldiers’ morale—yet neither did it break it.
It simply changed their mindset.
Seeing the ferocious gazes directed at him, Youngho grinned.
“Looks like everyone wants to kill me. Good attitude. After the war, I’ll have to be more careful about my guards.”
Under normal circumstances, the speech should have been nothing short of terrible.
But the fact that those listening were Martial Artists transformed the chaotic speech into something astonishing.
People with strong pride could not easily admit that they themselves might die.
Especially the strong.
Youngho had merely scratched at that particular part. Martial Artists were the kind of people who staked their lives on honor and pride.
And above all, the soldiers felt shame from Youngho’s words.
He had not pointed at anyone in particular—but that made it all the more humiliating.
Even the geniuses who believed they were different from others, and those who blamed themselves as mere ordinary people, had all been thinking the same thing just moments ago.
They wanted to live.
The instinct for survival existed in every person. Yet that fact alone was enough to crack the pride of the geniuses who believed themselves different from everyone else.
Once the truth they had avoided was revealed, the soldiers avoided it once again.
Instead, they rationalized their thoughts by blaming Youngho himself.
A person who refused to acknowledge their own fault was ugly and disgusting—but Youngho even made use of that.
Mocking the killing intent burning in the soldiers’ eyes, Youngho spoke.
“Entire army, advance. Let’s savor this one-day hell to our hearts’ content.”
And so the alliance began its march toward Qinghai.
Not long after, Namgung Cheon approached Youngho and spoke.
“You’ve earned quite a lot of resentment. Once the war ends, you’d better take good care of your life.”
Youngho looked at Namgung Cheon, who spoke casually, and replied,
“…Now that’s a strange sight.”
His expression openly displayed disbelief. He looked genuinely disgusted, yet Namgung Cheon simply grinned slyly.
“Why? There’s nothing strange about it. I’m the commander of a unit.”
“So you’re saying you’re going to stick with me?”
“Of course.”
Youngho stared at Namgung Cheon’s face for a moment before turning his gaze away.
“Aren’t you afraid of me?”
“I figured you’d say that.”
Namgung Cheon smiled bitterly, which was unusual for him.
“I always thought it was pathetic and idiotic whenever people from the Unorthodox Faction tried to justify themselves by saying they were a necessary evil.”
“Young Noble Master shouldn’t be using such foul language.”
“Enough. Just listen.”
At Namgung Cheon’s firm tone, Youngho merely shrugged as if to say of course you would.
“But… it doesn’t seem entirely wrong either. I think I finally understand why the Taoists of the Wudang Sect place such importance on harmony and balance.”
“Those long-nosed Taoists only talk big. Very few of them actually understand what it means.”
“What matters is that someone did understand.”
Namgung Cheon’s heavy voice pierced Youngho’s ears. For some reason, it seemed that Namgung Cheon had grasped something.
“The Taoists who valued harmony and balance must have seen a true necessary evil. And after witnessing countless thoughts and events, they tried to pass their will on to future generations.”
After hearing Namgung Cheon’s words, Youngho realized something.
Namgung Cheon was thinking about the future—about ruling the Namgung Clan as its next Clan Head.
And before long, once Namgung Cheon became the Murim Alliance Leader, he would think about even more things.
Very few people in this world tried to understand their own flaws.
Even fewer tried to correct them.
Namgung Cheon had cut away his greatest flaw.
He cut away his naivety. He cut away his foolish past self.
And into the space left behind, he poured a measure of cruelty and maturity.
He removed his weakness and replaced it with strength.
That was why Youngho acknowledged him.
There were not many people of the Orthodox Sect whom Youngho acknowledged, and among them Namgung Cheon stood out.
Back then, they had met when they were both alike in many ways, so there had been many things to consider.
But the current Namgung Cheon was different.
It was not exactly the same as before Youngho’s Regression. Though traces of his old immaturity still remained, Youngho was certain.
The present Namgung Cheon would grow to a degree incomparable to the one before the Regression.
The growth of someone who had personally witnessed the existence called a necessary evil could never be compared to before.
After a brief silence, Youngho spoke.
“A necessary evil isn’t something that appears often. Most of them are simply evil. And let me tell you one thing—after this war ends, I won’t be called evil.”
“Hm?”
It was a strange statement.
Honestly, from Namgung Cheon’s perspective, what Youngho had done to other martial artists had gone far beyond excessive.
Yet he said he would not be called evil?
“Personally, I think your judgment might be correct. But others might not think the same. They’ll criticize you in all sorts of ways—calling you extreme, dangerous, and so on.”
“Let’s judge that after the war.”
Youngho seemed unwilling to continue discussing the topic.
Namgung Cheon, who had recently come to understand the man named Youngho a bit more, smiled silently and said,
“By the way, aren’t you a bit too popular? A lot of people seem jealous of me.”
When Namgung Cheon turned his gaze, Youngho did the same.
And he saw them—his subordinates staring at Namgung Cheon with ferocious, almost murderous eyes.
Kang Chowon in particular glared so fiercely that even Youngho felt drained just watching.
“They probably didn’t approach because they thought our conversation was important.”
“Thanks to that, I’m in trouble. I thought I’d gotten fairly close with the Blood Sword Ghost after sparring with her so much, but she seems pretty disappointed.”
“Why? Do you like Chowon that much?”
“Of course. She’s incredibly attrac— …what?”
At Youngho’s sudden remark, Namgung Cheon’s ears flushed bright red.
Watching him, Youngho clicked his tongue.
“Don’t confess before the war starts. If one of you dies, the one left behind will be devastated. Survive first, then confess.”
“No, since when did you—!”
“Chowon~ we’re done talking, so bring the others over.”
No sooner had he finished speaking than Kang Chowon, Kang Hosan, and Hyeon-gang approached with the rest of the group.
“Young Master. Even if Young Master Namgung tells you to come over to the Orthodox Sect, you must not go. From the start, Young Master suits the Unorthodox Faction much mo— Guek!!”
Youngho lightly silenced Hyeon-gang’s nonsense with a punch before turning to Tang Gunhyeon and Hwangbo Nyeong.
“And why did you two come?”
“Because we’re friends?”
Hearing their answer, Youngho said in disbelief,
“I’m part of the Unorthodox Faction, you know?”
Hwangbo Nyeong suddenly burst out,
“How many people do you think became friends with members of the Unorthodox Faction during the joint training camp?”
“How many?”
“About ten people besides us?”
“That’s hardly a lot.”
Finding Youngho’s reply amusing, Tang Gunhyeon chuckled.
“There are more people than you think who want to stand by your side.”
“Nonsense.”
“It’s true. Daoist Hyeonu, Daoist Unjeong, and even Zhuge Lianhua keep glancing our way.”
Youngho did not bother to check.
After all, Cheonung and Han Yonghu were already chatting playfully with Pungdeok, the Sect Leader of the Hainan Sect.
And beside Pungdeok, Tanyeong kept glancing toward Youngho.
Because so many events of the future had changed, Youngho had believed he would never meet the people he once knew again.
Perhaps because he had already fallen into disappointment and resignation, the familiar atmosphere brought him a quiet sense of relief.